Fuzzy, Frilly
by sunyshore
Summary: Ironshipping fic based on a fanart I received that was somewhat out of the normal boundaries. RILEY X BYRON FIC. THIS NOT BE FOR CHILLDRUNZ. Click if you like the ironshippies! Plot: Byron is concerned about the increase in frills in Riley's new apron...


"Dinner's ready!"

Riley's singsong voice rang through the house. Byron looked up from his newspaper, crinkling his nose at the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. He stood up and headed towards it, stopping in the doorway and staring. Riley was wearing a frilly, light blue apron, and carrying a pot of soup with fluffy blue over mits.

"Uhhh." Byron scratched the back of his head, then slowly inched forward, sliding into his chair. Riley beamed down at him.

"I made soup!"

Byron stared. Riley was still wearing his regular dapper blue suit and hat despite the apron.

"It looks good... hey, what's with that, uh...?"

"Apron?" Riley grinning and turned to show the back tied in a big bow. "Isn't it nice? It was on sale, and I like this shade of blue. It came with matching mits." He held up his hands to demonstrate.

"Oh." Byron turned to grab a bowl, ladling some soup into it. Riley's face fell.

"You hate it?"

"No, I don't... HATE it," Byron grimaced, pushing a bowl to Riley, who slipped off his mits and sat down as well, looking sadder than a child who's birthday was forgotten.

"Why are you being so grumpy?"

"I am not grumpy, I just... isn't it a little... well..." Byron reached over and fingered the frilly part around the shoulders. "What exactly is this?"

"I don't know, I just liked the color."

"It's frills."

"So what?"

Byron leaned over, peering closely into Riley's eyes. "Are you secretly a cross-dresser?"

"NO!!" Riley gasped, swatting a hand at the old man and looking affronted. "How ...what! No! Why would you say that?"

"Well, you've been acting a lot like a woman lately, that's all. No, don't-!" Byron pushed his hand to Riley's about-to-protest-mouth. "Not like that man, I mean like, with the frilly apron and buying lots of cookbooks and ... you cleaned the house yesterday, didn't you? Dusted and everything. And you've bought a new purse to put your makeup in. No, I know you already had one!! But the new one has like... rhinestones and stuff on it." Riley was now squirming and trying to push Byron's hand away from his mouth, but it wouldn't budge. Byron rolled his eyes. "You've been acting like a housewife. That's all. Now you may speak." He pulled his arm back.

"BYRON that's NOT true!! I have not been - you're sexist! Men can clean and cook too. And buy makeup purses. And wear frilly aprons!! Those aren't women-only-activities!!"

Byron smiled. "Riley - repeat what you just said, but this time listen to yourself."

Riley's face turned into a pout of epic proportions.

"You don't like my cooking?"

"I really love your cooking."

"You want me to get splatters and sauce on my nice clothes when I cook?"

"You could wear an old t-shirt when you cook. Or get a man's apron."

Riley answered the t-shirt idea with a disgusted look. "I wear MAN APRONS, Byron-"

Byron reached out to finger the frills again and Riley smacked his hand away.

"I told you I bought this because I like the COLOR. I can cut away the frills."

"All I am saying is, you used to spend your days roughing it out on Iron Island or training in the Gym, you've spent the last few weeks tidying up the house and buying sparkly frilly things. Nothing wrong with it. Just ..." Byron grunted, averting his eyes and turning his head slightly, trying to hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I like you ... manly, too. I mean. Damn it. You should. You ought to just. Just don't turn too much into a wife. You don't have to stop, just... hmph."

Riley stared at Byron's hard to read expression, blushing a little as well "Byron... what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying what I just said, man!"

Heart pounding in his thin chest, Riley turned to eye the pot of soup, first mentally checking that it would be fine even if re-heated later before considering what he was now considering.

"What you just said, Byron, is you want me to be more manly."

"You don't have to be MORE manly, just not... less... of a man... than you were..." Byron scratched at the back of his neck, confusing himself. "You know what I mean."

Riley stood up, reaching behind himself and untying his apron, letting it slip to the floor. He slowly walked forward, then pulled Byron's chair away from the table with a sudden scraping. Byron looked up in surprise as the thin man slid into his lap, wrapping his long legs around the chair.

"Byron," Riley purred. "Are you saying you want me to be less...submissive?"

"Submissive?! Now who's being sexist? Who ever said women are submissive?"

"Nobody, but it sounds like you like me better when I'm taking charge, yelling orders, commanding and dominating..."

"That's a Gym Leader's... that's any Pokemon Trainer's job."

Riley touched a finger to Byron's lips. "It's okay, sweetie. I figured out what you're asking for. I know what you want."

"Well, could you tell me what that is, because I'm not sure myself."

"And spoil the surprise?" Riley leaned in and pushed his lips roughly against the older man's, his delicately manicured fingers slipping inside Byron's shirt and massaging his thickly muscled tummy. Byron surprised himself by not resisting, despite being in the kitchen on a rickety chair, and pushing his tongue into Riley's mouth, sucking and nibbling on his lips. He moaned as the thin fingers found his nipples, teasing and tugging on them.

Riley smiled triumphantly, pushing his hips against the bulge forming between Byron's legs. Byron gasped, breaking the kiss, and Riley responded by pushing his lips to his lover's neck, sucking gently on what he knew to be a sweet spot, his cheek being tickled by the fuzzy beard. Byron continued to squirm and whimper underneath him, much to Riley's delight, and he broke away to nuzzle into his shoulder, mumbling.

"So this is what you wanted after all..."

"What makes you say that,　eh?"

"You're protesting and whining a lot less than normal... like, not at all," Riley chuckled, lifting his eyes to enjoy the embarrassed look on Byron's usually gruff face. "You just keep making these delicious sounds..."

"Yeah, well," Byron grunted, averting his eyes and blushing deeper. Riley grinned, then stood up, tugging Byron's arm.

"Get on the floor."

"WHAT?!" Byron didn't budge. Riley growled a little, tugging harder.

"I said. Get. On the floor."

"But-"

"Trust me, it's clean. I know, I cleaned it myself." Another tug and Byron flopped out of the chair. Riley was on him immediately, pushing him down onto his back and unbuckling his belt. Byron continued averting his eyes and blushing as Riley tugged away his pants.

"You know," Riley said softly, shifting to straddle Byron's thickly muscled thighs, "I've seen you from this angle before, but it's strange how much a different attitude can change the way things look..." He moved his hand, pushing it against the tented boxer shorts, squeezing and massaging the balls before moving up to push his palm against the tip of the hard length. Byron shuddered, biting his lip to hold his voice in. Riley laughed lightly.

"Are you shy?"

"No."

"Then why are you blushing and won't look at me?"

"Because I'm..."

"Shy." Riley giggled again, then stood up, giving Byron a little pat before heading into the other room. Byron propped himself up, turning to look.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere!" Riley's voice proceeded him back into the kitchen, where he reappeared looking smugger than ever. Byron eyed him nervously.

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing. Now..." Riley crouched down between Byron's thighs again, grinning and leaning in to kiss his tummy, trailing his mouth down before biting at the elastic strap of his boxer shorts. He tugged on them with his teeth, tapping his hand on Byron's ass. Byron just stared at him, confused. Riley sighed and sat up.

"You have to lift your butt up for me to get these off, dummy."

"Oh." Byron blushed harder, averting his eyes again and not budging. Riley sighed in exasperation.

"Byron, do what I say."

"No!"

"Do it now."

"The floor is cold!"

Riley sighed again. "Then get on all fours."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me," Riley growled. Byron continued to look perplexed. Riley reached out suddenly, giving him a slap on the cheek. "Do it!"

He couldn't be quite sure how that would turn out, but much to his happy surprise, Byron then sat up and perched himself on his hands and knees. Riley had to stop himself from clapping his hands together in delight.

"Good boy!" He reached out and pulled Byron's boxer shorts away, tossing them aside. He eyed Byron hungrily, then wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. "I'm really enjoying the view, baby."

"I'm so happy for you," came the grumbled reply. Riley giggled, then slipped his hand into his pocket, opening the bottle of oil he'd grabbed from the living room and coating his fingers in it. "Byron, you're gonna wanna relax, okay?"

"Why?"

"Trust me," Riley purred, slipping the bottle back into his coat, then reaching around to grip Byron's cock in his clean hand, giving it a few slow, firm tugs. He felt the older man's body trembling, and knew Byron was probably holding back his voice again. That's what Riley wanted. It would make for a better reaction in the new moment.

He eyed Byron's ass, then bent over to nip at it.

"Mmmm... you really are the man with the Steel Body, you know that?"

"You've... seen my ass before, Riley," came Byron's halting reply, and Riley tugged on him harder, relishing in his labored breathing.

"Yes, but I'm still allowed to compliment it, aren't I?"

"You're really gay."

"Mmm-hmm," Riley mumbled in a sing song voice, sitting back and pressing one slick finger up against Byron's entrance, easily pushing it inside of him. Byron grunted in surprise, but otherwise only responded by arching his body up, biting his lip hard. Riley blinked.

"I thought you might yell at me," he said softly, moving his other hand away from Byron's cock to squeeze one of his ass cheeks. Byron merely shook his head.

"No I... I knew you were going to do that..."

"Oh." Riley pushed a second finger inside and shoved them both deep, feeling pleased as Byron finally gasped out loud. "Well, that makes my job easier."

"Good... for you... aah..."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Riley murmured, inserting a third finger and pushing up against a certain spot. He knew he'd done it right when Byron gasped and arched his back again.

"Y-yes..."

With his free hand Riley quickly started to undo his own belt, then unbuttoned his pants and reached down, freeing his own painfully ignored erection. He sighed, his eyes halfway closing as he stroked it a few times, then removed the bottle once more, pouring oil onto himself.

"Riley..."

"Mmm?" Riley opened his eyes fully, surprised as Byron reached an arm back to grab his wrist.

"Just... do it."

Smiling, Riley pulled his fingers out of his lover, then gripped his thighs firmly with both hands, straightening up and pressing the head of his cock insider the older man. Byron whimpered quietly, but Riley could tell it was the good kind of whimper, and gripped harder, pushing inside until Byron's firm ass was pressed into his this tummy.

"Do you like that, baby?"

"Nngh..."

"I'll take that as a yes," Riley laughed softly, slowly pulling his hips away before quickly pushing back inside. He began moving with a slow but steady rhythm, shifting one of his hand, fondling between Byron's legs for a moment before gripping him hard and tugging on his already dripping erection. He grinned in satisfaction as Byron moaned loudly in his sexy, deep voice, unable to bite it back any longer. Riley took a deep breath before speeding up his pace, the sight of himself entering his lover this way sending shivers up his spine.

"Aaah...ah-ah!!" Byron cried out in a loud voice, and his hand whipped around to grip Riley's wrist again, squeezing it tight. Riley gripped harder and began pounding into him as hard as he could, knowing Byron must already be close to orgasm.

"Byron... uhhn... a... are you-"

"Aa-ah... yes-! Yes-!"

Byron groaned and pushed his own hips into Riley's hand, and Riley felt his cock throbbing as come trickled down between his fingers. He squeezed out the last few drops even as he sped up his own movements, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Byron's chest, moaning and biting into his back as he pumped his hips as hard as he could. He could feel Byron's body trembling underneath of him, and then he cried out, cutting himself off by pressing his face into the back of Byron's neck, overwhelmed by the scent of his shampoo and sweat as he emptied himself into his body.

After pausing a moment to catch his breath, Riley slipped himself out of Byron and knelt down on the floor, grabbing a napkin to dab at himself before fixing his fly. Byron sat up as well, looking dazed, his face flushed dark red. Riley re-clasped his belt before sliding his arms around Byron from behind, giving him a little kiss on the back of his head before standing up wordlessly.

Byron felt woozy and his vision was still somewhat hazy, but he groped around for his boxer shorts, finally feeling his fingers close on the fabric. He slipped them back on and stood up, plopping himself down on his chair and resting his elbows on the table.

"Riley, you- ... Riley?"

Blinking, Byron wiped his eyes and stared. Riley had re-tyed his frilly apron on, and was turning the heat on the stove, upon which the pot of soup was already sitting. He turned to smile brightly at his partner.

"Sorry for the delay, sweetie, this will be ready to eat in just a minute!"

Byron gaped, and his expression didn't didn't change even as Riley sauntered over, then bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

"Are you going to keep worrying that I'm losing my masculinity, or can I keep my apron and matching mitts?"

Crossing his arms, Riley looked down at the burgundy haired man with his arms crossed. Byron blinked again, then smirked a little.

"You can keep the damn apron."

"YAY!" Riley cheered, then turned and skipped back over to the stove to check on the soup, a new bounce in his step.

That's when Byron realized he was also wearing matching fuzzy, frilly slippers.

--END-- 


End file.
